


I Forgot

by Jadeycakes99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Canon Divergence, Childhood Trauma, Clowns, Depression, Episode: s07e14 Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie, Gen, Medication, Night Terrors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Repressed Memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeycakes99/pseuds/Jadeycakes99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knew he hated clowns, he forgot why though. As memories from his childhood come flooding back to him, he's glad he at least has Dean to pick up some pieces, though his brother may not be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Didn't Want That to Happen.

1993

"But Dean," the younger Winchester groaned. "why can't I just stay with you?"

"I have stuff to do Sammy." Dean replied, though not without some guilt. After all, it wasn't like he was even helping his dad out or anything, he was just going to watch the video that his friend had found in his brother's sock drawer and lent him, and try one of the cigarettes he stolen off one of the guys his father was drinking with in the last town they had been in.

"Okay, but promise you'll be back?" Sam sighed. His brother had only forgotten to pick him up once, and that was because he fell asleep, but Sam never really got over it.

"I'll only be an hour, tops. Plus, the motel is right down the street."

"Fine." Sam replied. He turned to go inside Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie, and the next he knew, he was back at the motel.

2012

"You ever heard of Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie?" Dean asked. Sam went a shade paler, and even though he didn't really understand, his entire body tensed.

"No." He replied harshly.

"Wait a minute, didn't you used to love those things as a kid?" Sam knew he was scared of clowns, but not enough to want to puke like he did now.

"No. I hated them." Sam replied bluntly, he reluctantly agreed to check things out though. When he stopped the car outside the pizzeria, his stomach twisted. He had refused to set foot in one of these things since he was ten. It was always a bit weird to him and Dean, but he had never been afraid of clowns before. Reflecting on all of that, one thing rang through his mind, "Before what?" Sam ignored the thoughts, and reluctantly went inside.

That was it. It could have been the sickly smell of the pizza, or maybe the kids running by, but Sam continued to blame it on the clowns. He put his handover his mouth and walked out to sit on the curb. Sam remembered.

1993

"He, Kid, you done with your homewo- Shit! Sorry." A waiter replied after he spilled the drink all over Sam. Sam looked up with annoyance, though not that much. That particular waiter was probably his favorite. They joked, and he occasionally brought Sam free drinks when his homework was over. Needless to say, this wasn't the first time Dean brought him here. 

"Steve." Sam groaned. There was a strange look on Steve's face that Sam took for apology.

"Hey, we have spare clothes in the back room for stuff like this." He smiled at the kid's face. "I promise they're clean." When Sam relented and followed him, Steve locked the door and raped him before giving him new clothes and promising that he wouldn't tell anyone.

2012

That was strange. Sam reflected numbly. The fact that Steve promised to not tell anyone, though it had been affective apparently. Sam couldn't remember telling Dean. He remembered the pale blue eyes, and the clown there videotaping them. The clown scared him more than Steve.

"I didn't want that to happen." Sam said aloud, burying his face into his hands. He was grateful for the solid concrete under him because his world was spinning.  
Sam wasn't even really sure why he repressed that memory. It wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to him, by far, he figured. After Lucifer and everything else, that was easy.  
"I was just a kid though." Sam replied to himself out loud. That was how Dean found him later, sitting on the curb, his elbows resting on his knees and holding his face in his hands.

"What's up?" Dean asked joining him on the curb, and Sam flinched away immediately. "Hey! Sam, what's going on? Did you find out anything about the case?" 

"No."

"There was nothing?" 

"I didn't go inside. Hey, do you remember anything about when I was ten?"

"I don't know." Sam stood up and started to walk away. "Wait! Do you mean anything weird?" Sam nodded. "Okay let me think." They stood there, on the pavement outside Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie for a few minutes.

"You started having nightmares."

"About what?" Sam asked sharply.

"I don't know, you never remembered when you woke up, but they were almost as bad as the hell dreams we've had." Dean shuddered slightly. "You wet the bed for a while, which was weird, because you stopped that when you were about five. You threw tantrums whenever Dad and I would leave you alone, until Dad sorted you out. Other than that... Oh, you had a crush on this girl, that was cute."

"That makes sense. They say that repressed memories affect your life consciously. Why wouldn't I get this memory back with all my memories of hell? It wasn't even that bad. I was diddled in a back room, and that's why I'm afraid of clowns, I didn't want for that to happen though. First Azazel, then Steve, then Ruby, then Lucifer, always Dad, until I left for Stanford, and then there was you, but not really, because I could have not gone. Thanks Dean." Everything was said in a monotone. Dean stared at him for a minute.

"What? I mean I got the general idea, but what?"

"I was diddled when I was ten." Sam choked out a laugh.

"Why wouldn't you tell me this sooner? I would have killed them! Who was it?" Dean shouted. His voice was filled with rage, and a woman picked up her daughter to take her to their car.

"I forgot." Sam replied simply before laughing. 

"This isn't funny, man!" Dean replied, voice still filled with rage, but more quietly.

"I know, I know, but, I forgot." He couldn't help the giggle that escaped him. " I literally just remembered." 

"Come on." Dean replied gently, he grabbed for his brother's arm, but Sam flinched away again, but followed him to the Impala. As soon as both doors were shut, Sam started sobbing.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke up with a short scream. In his dream, clowns were surrounding him with Lucifer and Steve in the background sitting at a prettily decorated table, sipping tea and chatting and laughing.

"Sorry Sam, I have stuff to do." Dean said, walking away slowly. Sam tried to follow, but he was frozen in place. John's face was laughing at him from the ceiling.

"Sammy, come on. It was just a dream." Dean said sleepily. He was next to his brother as soon as he woke up. "Go change and you can sleep in my bed. That always stopped you from having nightmares when you were a kid." Sam tried to process his brother's words, before he felt the wetness on his lower half. Half of Sam wanted to sob, the other half wanted to scream, but he just nodded, grabbed a change of clothes, and went to the bathroom to change. He stared at the mirror for a good ten minutes. His mind was completely blank.

"Sammy?" Dean called, as he rapped on the door.

"Huh?" Sam called back.

"You okay in there?"

"Yeah. Sam replied. He heard his brother's voice, but he didn't understand what he was saying. He turned on the shower and stepped in fully clothed. The shower was far too hot, but he didn't care, he just stood under the running stream.

"I didn't want him to." He murmured quietly. He got out and peeled all of his clothes off, putting the dry ones he had brought with him. He stared in the mirror again for another ten minutes before finally going out into the room.

Dean was standing worriedly outside the door, and Sam nearly bumped into him.

"Oh, Dean, what are you doing here?" Sam asked blandly.

"I was just making sure you were okay." Dean replied, he had the decency to look sheepish at being caught listening at the door, but Sam didn't really notice.

"Oh. Okay." Sam went to his bed and stared at it for a solid minute. The sheets and blanket had been stripped.

"Come on." Dean said, worry clouding his face and voice. He prodded his brother's shoulder, but Sam jumped, and stepped away from the touch. Dean went to his bed, and sat far to the side and patted the space beside him. Sam shuffled over and sat beside his brother.

"I didn't want him to." Dean couldn't tell if he was talking about whoever did it to him as a kid, or Lucifer, or their dad, either way he replied,

"I know. Go to sleep. We can talk about it in the morning. Sam nodded, and laid down, Dean waited for him to fall asleep before following suit.


	3. Chapter 3

When Sam woke up the next afternoon, there was coffee on the nightstand, and Dean was sitting over the laptop with a focused look. He sat up, stretched, and reached for the coffee.  


"I wouldn't drink that if I were you. Dean said, turning around. "Its been sitting there since six." Sam checked the time. It was three in the afternoon.  
"Why'd you let me sleep so long?" He asked, his voice filled with sleep. Dean ignored the question.  
"Are you ready to talk?" Sam's gaze went to his lap. "Fine. At least listen. I think you should see a psychologist." Sam's head snapped up at that.  
"Since when are you gung ho on doctors? Especially psychologists?" He asked with anger. Dean smiled.  
"Ah-ah Sammy, psychiatrists can prescribe meds." Sam's expression didn't change from its horrified state. "Look, you know, 'Oh I just got shot, hand me a band-aid,' Bobby?" Sam nodded hesitantly.  
"I don't know if you remember, but we stayed with him for a while after you started acting... like that." Sam had no reaction. "Even he thought you should go see someone." Sam set his jaw.  
"No. In case you don't remember I don't have great experience with shrinks." Dean rolled his eyes.  
"We aren't going to a mental hospital. Please just try it." Dean's expression softened. He was filled with worry. "Please." Sam stared at his brother.  
"Fine. I will try it once. That's it." Dean walked over and hugged him.  
"Thank you."  
Neither brought up the subject for two weeks. Sam continued to have nightmares, and more often than not, ended up in Dean's bed.  
They were sitting at a bar table, and Dean was drinking, while Sam stared blankly at the table. "Hey, you have an appointment with Doctor Smith tomorrow. Dean brought up casually. Sam stared at him for a minute, unable to process from lack of sleep.  
"Yeah. Okay." Sam shrugged tiredly.  
"Alright, let's go back to the motel, so you can actually talk to her tomorrow. Sam nodded, and followed his brother to the Impala.

Sam was barely functioning, so of course Dean was worried about him. He was worried about him anyway, because he was the older brother. He didn't have a choice. He was sitting in the waiting room, looking around at the nutcases that were probably psychopaths or something, and he was regretting trying to force this on Sam. Sam wasn't crazy. He was sick. Dean smiled nervously at the man who started staring at him. After an hour, Sam walked out with red eyes, and a piece of paper clutched nervously in his hand. 

"Sammy?" Dean asked worriedly.

"She um, she wants to talk to you for a minute." He said shakily. Dean frowned. He didn't know why she would want to talk to him, but he nodded and walked into the office. The young, petite, brunette woman would have been a target of his interests had he not been so worried. She smiled politely and offered her hand. He returned the gesture and shook it. 

"Hi Dean. You're brother seems to highly regard you." She said with a kind smile.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" He asked seriously.

"I just wanted to meet you, and Sam thought it would be better if I explained what's going on." Dean nodded, and remained silent, imploring her to continue. "Well, as you know, Sam has gone through serious trauma, and he's having some difficulty handling it." 

"Some difficulty? He's barely functioning." Dean replied. her expression turned more serious. 

"How are you doing with taking care of him?" 

"I'm fine. How is he?" Dean responded, annoyed.

"He told me you've been taking care of him since you were kids. With only a four year age difference, that must have been difficult for you."

"Not really," Dean responded, he was annoyed that she wasn't explaining yet. "He's my brother." She frowned.

"Sam should fine, but I gave him a perscription for an SSRI which should help with the depression, and something to help him sleep through the night. I also think we should schedule a weekly appointment, however I know with your lifestyle that would be difficult. How long do you expect to stay in town?" Dean had expected as much.

"A few weeks." She nodded. 

"I would consider staying a bit longer. Sam expressed that he craved stability."

"Did he express that he's okay?" She smiled sadly.

"I can only share what he told me I could." Dean nodded calmly, though he was anxious and annoyed.

"Are we done?" He asked. She smiled a small esoteric smile that Dean wanted take off her face.

"Yeah. We're done." She said. Dean stood up, and walked to the waiting room, where Sam was sitting blankly in the chair he had been sitting in.

"Let's go." Sam followed him to the car.

They sat in silence for most of the drive back to the motel.  
"Do you want to look for a temporary apartment?" He asked with extra emphasis on "temporary."

Sam looked up from the paper on his lap. "Seriously?" He asked, shocked.  
"Yeah. The Doc thinks stability would be good for you, and who am I to disagree?" He tried to sound nonchalant, despite his reluctance to stay in such a small town.

"Sure." Sam said, still surprised. Dean stopped in front of the motel.

"Go try to look for stuff. I'll go fill that." He said, holding his hand out for the paper in Sam's lap. Sam handed it to him. The paper was crumpled, and it looked worn, from Sam fiddling with it. Dean took it in tp the first pharmacy he found. Ten minutes later, when he had the pills, he went out to bang his head on the steering wheel before going back to check on his unstable little brother.


End file.
